


Exposure

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-11-18
Updated: 2000-11-18
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:30:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Fraser has a tough day.





	Exposure

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
    Rating: NC-17
    Author: avg 62
    Email:
    
    Exposure
    
    I stumble slightly as the police cruiser literally screeches to a halt
    on the sidewalk in front of me.
    
    Concerned, I scan the area hoping to lend a hand but I see nothing untoward;
    in fact, everyone I can see is looking at the officers as they exit their
    car behind me.
    
    As I turn back, the policeman from the passenger side of the vehicle
    grabs my upper arm and begins pulling me towards the car.
    
    "OK pal, over here," he says to me. "Put your hands on the car and spread
    your legs."
    
    Apparently struck dumb by the turn of events, I "assume the position"
    as I am told. Although my mind is awhirl with questions, I can't seem
    to make myself speak. 
    
    The driver of the cruiser walks around behind me and is talking to his
    partner.
    
    "What do you think? Maybe he wandered away from one of those halfway
    houses." 
    
    The voice does not sound familiar, even though I am walking through the
    27th precinct and I believe I know every patrol officer assigned here.
    Perhaps it is someone new. That would explain why he doesn't recognize
    me.
    
    "Nah," I hear the first policeman say, "he's too pretty and he looks
    pretty clean; I think he's a rent-a-boy who pissed off his client and
    got tossed out of bed early."
    
    I am stunned by the turn in the conversation, I may be naive, but I have
    lived in the city long enough to know that the term "rent-a-boy" refers
    to a male prostitute. Stunned by their suspicions, I attempt to turn
    around and correct their impression of me. "Excuse me officers, but..."
    
    It would seem that the second officer is not in the mood to discuss the
    matter with me. I feel a strong hand on the back of my neck turning me
    back to face the car and he growls, "Assume the position and keep your
    mouth shut, buddy."
    
    The first officer chuckles and says, "Well, at least it won't take long
    to frisk him." 
    
    Now the driver is amused as well. "Yeah, I'll take this one and you can
    have the next indecent exposure call we get." 
    
    My bewilderment grows with this last comment and although I am
    anxious to speak to the officers and clear up this apparent
    misunderstanding, I am also afraid of antagonizing the men any further.
    I keep my mouth shut as ordered and hope their discussion will yield
    further enlightenment. It does not.
    
    I feel myself blushing as people gather around to take in the spectacle
    of a Mountie under arrest. I begin to feel self-conscious and find it
    impossible not to hang my head in shame and stare at my boots.
    
    Which, curiously, are not there. Nor are my socks. Or my pants. 
    
    To my horror I realize that I have been out in public wearing nothing
    but my boxer shorts and a t-shirt, my usual bed clothing. "Oh dear Lord,"
    I mutter, "how could I have left the apartment without my uniform?" 
    
    The time it takes for this realization is all the time it takes for the
    patrolmen to finish their conversation and begin searching me. I feel
    hands on my legs, which I find curious because they are as bare as the
    day I was born. Apparently this officer is new and takes his job quite
    seriously. That explains his antagonistic reaction earlier.
    
    Strangely, and to my undying humiliation, the process of being frisked
    is arousing me. I can do nothing but watch, horrified, as my growing
    erection caused my boxers to tent in evidence of that fact.
    
    "Oh, so ya like that, do ya buddy?" I hear the officer whisper in my
    ear.  
    
    "I, um, er, I'm so sorry, I..I'm..." I am reduced to babbling.
    
    "Well, let me see if I can help out here," he replies. 
    
    I am scandalized and stand transfixed as the policeman grasps my penis
    firmly through my shorts and begins to stroke.
    
    Shocked and, sadly, even more aroused, I turn my head and am surprised
    to see that my arresting officer seems to be Ray Kowalski, my lover for
    all of four months. 
    
    I'm speechless and apparently gaping, the only thought in my head being
    'What is Ray doing out on patrol?'
    
    "What's the matter Frase, cat got your tongue or are you catching flies?"
    
    I begin to sense that something is amiss when I notice that Ray seems
    to be dressed in nothing more than his boxer shorts.
    
    "R-Ray," I stammer. "I'm sorry I'm not dressed...couldn't I just go home
    and put on my clothes? Do you have to arrest me?"
    
    Ray laughs evilly now, "Well, if you really want to get dressed, that's
    okay, Frase, but you're already home. And I guess I could let you off
    with a warning."
    
    Suddenly, the street scene is replaced by our bedroom. I blink several
    times and discover that I am standing next to our bed having "assumed
    the position" with my hands on our headboard. Ray is standing behind
    me next to the bed with one hand around my very erect penis.
    
    I groan. I can't believe this. Not another episode. I've had several
    since I've moved into Ray's apartment and his bed. Apparently the new
    arrangements have my subconscious mind out of sorts. And now I'm
    going to have to kill Ray...after I make love to him of course. I can't
    leave my erection untended.
    
    "You are so fun when you're zonked out Fraser," laughs Ray. "Man, you
    must have the wildest dreams."
    
    "You realize I'm going to have to kill you now, don't you Ray?" I reply.
    
    "Why, just because you sleepwalk and get excited while you're doing it?"
    
    "No, not that," I snap. "I have to kill you because you take advantage
    of me when I am sleepwalking. I've told you that somnambulism is nothing
    to trifle with."
    
    "Huh-uh, Frase," Ray reasons, "I'm just lending a helping hand when you're
    som...som...zombie-ing around. Besides, you should be glad I hide the
    house keys so you don't wander around the streets like this." 
    
    I shudder as that comment hits a little too close to home. "I'm going
    to start replacing the candy in your evening coffee with sedatives,"
    I threaten. "It's the only way I'll get any rest."
    
    "Aw, c'mon Ben," he whines, "you know you can't go back to sleep right
    away after one of those dreams."
    
    'That is below the belt,' I think to myself, 'he knows I can't resist
    him when he uses my first name.'
    
    Sighing heavily, I give in. "You're right Ray, I'm wide awake now." 
    
    Ray relinquishes his hold on my penis. "C'mon, let's kiss and make up,"
    he whispers seductively. 
    
    Ray seems to forget that although I am larger than he, I am quick for
    a man my size. It is a simple matter to slide around behind him and push
    him up against the headboard.
    
    I lean in close against Ray's back and whisper in his ear, "Assume the
    position Ray."
    
    It gratifies me to hear Ray moan low in his throat as he spreads his
    feet apart. A smile curls my lips as he gasps, "Y-yes sir, officer sir,
    whatever you say."
    
    
    
    


End file.
